


The Darkness Has Teeth

by Hannibalsimago



Category: Hannibal TV
Genre: Angst, Animal Abuse (mention), Animal Death, Animal abuse/death - none of Will’s dogs —they don’t exist in storyline yet, Bullying (implied), Frederick goes to prom, Hand Jobs, M/M, MHBB2018, Murder, Murder Husbands Big Bang 2018, Nightmares, Underage Grooming —Hannibal is a manipulative shit, Will’s father is not awful, best friend Beverly, high school setting, just a regular overworked single parent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-27
Updated: 2018-11-27
Packaged: 2019-09-01 08:42:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 20,240
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16761793
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hannibalsimago/pseuds/Hannibalsimago
Summary: Will’s a new kid in town (again). He thought it would get easier trying to fit in after all his new starts. Every new school brings a new clique to overcome.  But he’s finding he’s got bigger problems than being labeled the “new” student, warily adjusting to the vagaries of high school social life or even graduation.Now he’s afraid he might be losing his mind.Will he survive his last year of high school with his sanity intact? Or is something waiting in the darkness to tear him to shreds?Or worse...What if he’s the monster in the dark, the thing that everyone fears most?  Will he always be on the outside, always alone?





	The Darkness Has Teeth

**Author's Note:**

  * For [The-loneliest-neon-light](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=The-loneliest-neon-light).



_ For @the-loneliest-neon-light _

_ Howls, screams, blood dripping on a concrete floor, breath choking off, the metal chain digging into fur, incisors biting on air, a growled oath and a quick cuff across a bloodied muzzle.  _

Will thrashed awake, covered with sweat, chest heaving, a cry strangled in his throat, his esophagus struggling to keep down the sudden rush of bile. _ ‘That’s the third time this week,’  _ as the alarm blared and he swung his legs over the side of the bed. 

He doubted if a shower would rinse away the traces of the dream from his head but padded down the hallway to the bathroom anyway. He had school to get ready for and while it wouldn’t be as bloody as his nightmare, it might be just as nasty. 

^^^^^^^^^

“Breakfast?”

He followed his father’s voice into the tiny kitchen and greeted him with a rough hug. ‘ _ No need to worry him,’  _ as he sat down to a soft boiled egg and a piece of thinly buttered toast. His father filled his own thermos and poured a small cup of coffee for his son. 

“I’m off. I’ll be home around six.” 

A deeply tanned, work-roughened hand tousled Will’s damp hair as he ate the last of his meal. 

“Love you, Will. Be good. Have fun.”

“Love you, dad. See you,” a much quieter, but heartfelt, response. 

He heard his father leave and the asthmatic noise of the pickup shortly after. They would work on the boat motor sitting in the garage this weekend and he smiled. It was a side job, one that brought in some extra cash and a touchstone back to their life down in Louisiana. Everything seemed so simple when he tinkered with an engine. He cherished working alongside his taciturn father, bringing order out of chaos. It promised to be a quiet oasis and he looked forward to it, counting the days. 

Will hated school. The only saving grace was that it was his last year. He was tired of always being whispered about, either for his grades or lately for his increased social isolation.

He put the dishes near the sink and grabbed his book bag, heading out the door and locking it carefully behind him. A quick glance at his watch and he jogged to the bus stop. 

^^^^^^^^

“Books away. Pop quiz time,” commanded Dr. Chilton as he handed out papers. “Take one and pass them back.”

A chorus of groans and muttered swearing filled the room briefly. Will flinched as the failed university professor walked by checking for contraband and cheat sheets. He had forgotten that there was going to be a quiz this week.  _ ‘Fucking nightmares,’  _ he thought as be bent his head over the Sociology quiz. He needed to keep his GPA up to earn a scholarship: it was the only way he would be continuing in school after graduation.

^^^^^^^^^

The bell rang for lunch break and the students tumbled out of class, pushing and shoving in the hallways, piling into the cafeteria. 

“Hiya!” 

Will brightened at the friendly greeting, his first smile since his father left for work hours earlier. He ducked his head to the side as Bev playfully shoved his shoulder. 

“I see a spot. Come on.” Will followed her to a table in the corner and listened as she said hello and greeted nearly everyone enroute. 

Bev had been in his classes since he arrived and was glad not to be the lone ‘star student’ cliche any longer. The very first day they had met, Will endeared himself in her eyes for punching the first kid who was stupid enough to repeat an Asian slur in his presence. It’s not that she couldn’t handle herself, but it had been getting tiresome especially when many of her barbed insults fell on deaf ears. 

“What do you have? I shouldn’t even ask. Here,” She said lightly. 

When the two of them first started to eat lunch together Will was embarrassed by his hard boiled egg along with some sort of fruit either an apple, orange or banana, depending on what was on sale that week. Without asking questions or saying a word, toward the end of the first week of school, Bev quietly divided their lunches in half and it was their ritual ever since. Now, she would occasionally ask but it was more of a gentle teasing and a touchstone back to their beginning. 

“Will, you ok? You don’t look so good.”

A clipped response. “Fine. I’m good.”

She knew better than to press judging by the tone of his voice but she was worried as she watched his eyes dart away more than usual and watched him flinch at raucous laughter from nearby tables. 

“Howja do on the pop quiz? Bet you aced it.”

Will scowled.

“Now, I know you’re not making that face over the lunch my mom slaved over.”

No reply from Will who concentrated on his apple as if it was the first time eating it. 

“Give, Graham!” She nudged him a tiny bit, her eyes twinkling. “I’ll tell you who is going out with Franklyn for prom.”

“I didn’t ace it. I forgot it was today and I don’t care who Franklyn is going to prom with.”

Will wadded up his unfinished lunch and tossed it in the nearby trash can.

“See you eighth period? Thanks for lunch.” He mumbled as he headed out of the room, the dark circles under his eyes prominent. 

Bev watched her friend leave and chewed her bottom lip nervously.  _ ‘Something’s up. He’s wound tighter than ever.’ _

_ ^^^^^^^^^^ _

Weeks went by and Will showed up for school, more often than not, like some kind of a zombie, slightly spaced out, on edge. The nightmares continued, bloodier than ever, spilling over into real life last week when a tortured dog’s body was found down by the stream. 

Will managed to hide everything from his father, not wanting to worry him and jeopardize his steady paycheck. Work at the docks could be more providence than skill and Will had no desire to add unemployment to their woes. 

It started like a day like any other, the morning routine comforting and familiar, an oasis after the nightmares. Last night, a new disturbing development, Will found himself sleepwalking. He awoke trying to undo the deadbolt on the front door, shivering in his sweat-soaked t-shirt and boxers, worried the noise he was making was going to wake his father. He crept back to bed but his sleep was even more fractured. 

Most of the day passed without incident. Then in the jumble of the afternoon crush, Will tripped over Franklyn’s bookbag in the hallway and went sprawling against a stocky classmate. He didn’t even know his name, just a vague recognition of the taller boy being on the wrestling team. Will had the impression that he was a bully of a boy and what happened next confirmed his worst fears. 

Will looked at the jock and his mind was filled with gouts of blood, bones snapping, savage glee and cruelty. The last image was the worst, watching a dog bleed out on a pile of dirty straw while the stocky bully kicked at its belly and hind quarters, jumping up to snap its spine, yelling that it cost him over a thousand dollars in prize money. The howls and blood filled Will’s mind as he watched the dog die. 

Will went berserk, punching the taller boy in the solar plexus, knocking the air out of him, following his downward trajectory, beating him continuously. He broke his nose in two places, boxed his ears, nearly rupturing his eardrums. Will made every blow count. He was in the process of trying to knock off the boy’s sunglasses so that he could dig his thumbs in his eyes, yelling incoherently at the top of his lungs. 

It took two security guards and the coach to pull him off. Dr. Chilton, eyes wide in an ashen face, was calling for an ambulance while the science teacher was staunching the boy’s bloody nose. Will was hastily bundled into the principal’s office, his shirt sprayed with the boy’s blood. 

Will could hear the sirens of the ambulance whooping as it pulled up to collect the beaten student. Both security guards stayed with him until the principal arrived. 

“You can go,” She told the two security guards as she rounded her desk. One of them started to protest and she held up a hand. 

“I’m perfectly safe, Mr. Graham aren’t I?”

Will had his face in his hands and nodded. 

“That won’t do, Mr. Graham. I need your audible consent before these gentlemen leave.”

Will croaked, “Yes, Principal Crawford.”

“Good. Bring in Dr. Chilton please. He’s a witness. I’m calling your father.”

“Please!” Will stumbled shakily to his feet. “Please, he’s at work. Can’t you wait a half hour so he won’t lose work time?”

Bella Crawford wasn’t used to giving in to student demands but this whole situation was abnormal. A near perfect student who usually minded his own business and kept to himself savagely striking out and seriously beating another student to the point he almost needed to be hospitalized. 

“If I say ‘yes’ will you sit down without any more outbursts, Mr. Graham?”

“Y-yes, Principal Crawford,” He stuttered anxiously, wringing his hands, and looking at the blood under his nails, wondering if his scholarship had just gone up in flames. 

^^^^^^^

“From what I could see, he tripped on a bookbag, clutched at Jacobson to stop himself from falling and then beat him bloody, jumping on top of him, winding up on the floor,” explained a shocked Dr. Chilton. 

“So this wasn’t planned. Nothing circulating around the school?”

She looked at the shivering young man in her office. “Dr. Chilton, you may go and give your report to the police. But before you do that, please bring me in some cold water from the drinking fountain.” 

She handed the professor two tall glasses and watched him walk out of her office. Soon enough, Dr. Chilton returned with the water, placing them on the desk and then leaving the office. 

“Drink. I’m told you nearly ruined your voice.”

Will nodded, sipping carefully, wincing as the liquid slid down his throat. She looked at him briefly over her glasses before she started to fill out paperwork. 

^^^^^^^^^^^^

Will heard his father’s anxious voice, echoing down the hallway. 

“Will! 

Counselor Alana Bloom led him into the office where he rushed over to Will. “Are you alright?”

“The other boy is in much worse shape, Mr. Graham. I’m seriously considering expelling him for this.” 

“That can’t be true! Will?” His father clasped his shoulder and studied his son’s face, trying to make sense out of this. “He must have been provoked somehow.”

Will opened his mouth to say something and shut it again.  _ ‘How can i say anything about what I saw?’ _

“Will, please go with Counselor Bloom. I need to discuss this situation with your father. Have a seat Mr. Graham.” 

“Please don’t kick me out. I’ll do community service, anything,” pleaded the young man, clutching at his father’s coat.

“Come on Will. Let’s go to my office,” said Alana as she led the shaking youth out of the office.

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

“Now, do you want to tell me what happened back there? Spill it. I’ve got eyes.” 

Will drew himself up to protest and remembered his father’s eyes looking into his- confused, worried, but full of love- and crumpled into a chair, avoiding looking at his counselor.

“You know all the news stories about the dogs?”

Alana took a seat behind her desk and nodded. 

“I keep getting nightmares. A lot. Couple of times a week but it’s getting worse.”

“That explains the dark circles and the nodding off in class. Dr. Chilton was commenting in the teacher’s common room that your grades are slipping. I checked with your other instructors and they all say the same thing.”

It was clear he wasn’t going to leave her office without explaining. It would be a relief to be able to tell someone, even if it was a tiny bit.

“Similar nightmare. Animals being abused. Don’t see faces, just hands.”

“That doesn’t excuse what you did to Johnston. Did he say something? Was he bullying you?”

“No! No worse than what I get everyday. But.”

She waited.

“I saw him. I saw him snap that dog’s back. Saw it dying.” 

“You followed him after school? Did you report it?”

“No!” Will was pulling at the hair on his head, rubbing his scalp as if he could wash the thoughts away. 

“You don’t understand! In my head! When I bumped into him, I put the pieces together. I saw him in my head. Worse than the dreams. He was involved in dog fighting. He had just killed his top dog for losing a fight. He snapped its back the night before. He was happy about it, the feeling of power over something. He was going to brag to his buddies.” 

Will shuddered as he told the story, rushed, as if it was poisoning him by holding it inside and sat shivering as he finished. Alana got up and got a sweater from the coat rack in the corner, coming over to the boy and putting it around his shoulders. 

“I have someone you should speak to, Will. I am going to make that recommendation to Principal Crawford that you have been under an unusual amount of stress. In order to keep your scholarship, you will see a therapist. No buts. This is mandatory. It’s beyond me to help you.” 

She held up her hands to cut off any response from the stricken boy in front of her. 

“And I’m going to look into internships for you. Get you tired enough during the day that you can’t remember your dreams during the night.”

Will looked at her, wondering if he should have kept his mouth shut. “I don’t want someone in my head.” 

“You gave up that choice when you threw the first punch, Will.”

She fumbled in her desk drawer and drew out a business card, handing it to Will. “With your father’s permission, I’m setting up an appointment as soon as possible.”

She took the sweater back as she motioned for Will to stand. “Come on. We have to get back.” She left the sweater on the chair and put her hand on Will’s forearm. “Thank you for telling me. That must have been very hard to do Will. Let’s go.” 

‘ _ What have I set in motion? Now I’m the school crazy. As if things couldn’t get worse.”  _ Black thoughts swirled in his head to match the day. He shook himself and lifted his head up as he followed Counselor Bloom back to Principal Crawford’s office. 

_ ‘I can take it. Whatever it is, I can take it.’ _ he promised himself as he went to stand next to his father. He felt his father’s hand come around his back and clasp his shoulder as he was hugged hard into his father’s side and looked up to see his concerned face. 

“It’s ok, Dad. I’m sorry. Sorry for causing this.”

“Hush, son. I know.” A loving squeeze and quick pat. Will relaxed for the first time in hours.

“Principal Crawford, Will gave me some information which bears on this situation. I have a recommendation…”

Will zoned out and her voice faded into static. 

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

The ride home was quiet. Will was exhausted and dozed and as much as his father tried to hide it, he was worried. ‘ _ Have I failed him? Put too much pressure on him? Why didn’t I notice anything?’  _ The thoughts swirled, ratcheting up his anxiety and he choked back a sob. 

The noise woke Will and he could see the red rimmed eyes of his father as the oncoming headlights flickered and shone into the car. 

“It’s not your fault, dad.”

“We can’t have this conversation while I’m driving son. Just a few more minutes and we’ll be home. Ok?”

Will nodded and shivered, clutching himself as the house came into view. 

Soon enough, they were inside where as soon as Wil dropped his bookbag, he was enveloped in a rough hug, his father’s head tucked on top of his curls, pulling the boy to his chest, arms around his back. It was all so sudden, out of character for his taciturn father. Will felt his father shake, and felt his hands soothe him, rubbing circles into his back and shoulders. Will put his hands around his father’s upper back, hanging on tightly as both of them struggled to rein in their tears. 

“I’m so sorry Dad! I didn’t think, just reacted. I don’t know where it came from!”

“Shhhhh. It’s ok son. I should have seen something, done something. If we’re laying blame, there’s enough to go around.”

Will’s stomach gurgled and growled and his father laughed. 

“See? Already a worse father you’ve never seen. Let’s get dinner on the table while you go wash your face,” he said as he gave Will a large kiss to his forehead, pulling back, holding his son’s face in his hands gently and seeing the warmth in his eyes, before ruffling his hair as he let him go. 

A short while later, Will, face scrubbed and clean, back in the kitchen and chopping lettuce for a salad, jumped as the phone rang. His father motioned to the stove and went to take the call.

“Graham residence.”

“Hello, Mr. Graham. Forgive me for calling so late and for doing this over the phone rather than in person, but Counselor Bloom gave me reason to believe this was a situation necessitating some urgency. My name is Hannibal Lecter and I’ve been asked to be a therapist for your son. I need your permission to treat him. May I ask you some questions please?” 

“We were just-. I’m just a bit taken aback by this. Does it have to be now?”

“If the goal is to keep him out of juvenile court and possible incarceration, save his scholarship and assure his mental health above all, then yes, I’m afraid it has to be now.”

Will watched his father sink into a kitchen chair and listened to him struggle to regain a neutral conversational tone. He turned back to the stove, keeping an eye on the fish as he listened to the one-sided conversation.

“Please forgive me Mr. Graham. I’ll make this quick. First, do I have your permission to treat your son, William Graham?”

“Yes. Do you specialize in treating young adults?” 

“I wouldn’t say that. It’s been a few years. But I’ve never lost a patient, Mr. Graham. I may employ both therapy and pharmaceutical methods to treat your son. Is that acceptable?”

“Yes. You will let me know about side effects?”

“Of course, both of you. Anything else would be unethical.”

“How much is this going to cost?”

“I’m doing this on a pro-bono basis Mr. Graham.”

“Will’s not a charity case, Dr. Lecter.”

“Forgive me. I’m sure we can work something out if you insist. That’s the least of your concerns right now. I usually conduct a short session with the family prior to seeing the patient. Can we schedule that for tomorrow?” 

“I can’t take off work. I just got this job.” Will saw his father put his head in his hand as he answered.

“I understand. We can forgo that in this instance. Forgive my presumptuousness, I’m taking the liberty to overnight some paperwork to you that requires your signature and consent. It will arrive tomorrow morning at breakfast time. Please sign it and have Will bring it with him to tomorrow afternoon’s appointment. You can, of course, reach me at any time with questions or concerns, Mr. Graham.”

“You’re pretty damn sure of yourself, aren’t you, Dr. Lecter? What was the point of asking me if you’re sending the paperwork?”

“An old-world European sense of courtesy.”

“Really? Sure there wasn’t anything else in there that you needed to poke at, Doctor?”

“Mr. Graham. From our short conversation, I can tell that you are a proud, independent, fiercely loving single-father who has just about managed to raise an honor-roll student, one with a superb chance at a scholarship, without nearly any, shall we say, societal hiccups?”

“Sorry, Dr. Lecter. It’s been a beast of a day. I'd like to have dinner with my son.”

“Of course. Again my apologies. May I speak with your son, sir? Only to give him directions for tomorrow.”

“Will? For you, son,” as his father held out the phone to him. “Grab a pen and paper. He’s gonna give directions.” 

Will sat as his father went to the stove and busied himself with dinner, taking some salad dressing out of the refrigerator along with a loaf of bread that had been made that weekend. 

“Hello, I’m Dr. Lecter. Counselor Bloom gave me your contact information. What do you prefer to be called? Mr. Graham or William?”

“Um, It’s Will, please. Mr. Graham makes me think of my father.”

“Of course, whatever makes you comfortable. There will be paperwork that will arrive tomorrow morning before your father goes to work. Please have him sign, date and initial the appropriate places and bring it with you when you come see me tomorrow at four o’clock. Thank you, Will.”

“Welcome.”

“Do you know where the church is on Simcoe Street near the Opera house? The Metro goes right by there. The address is 64 Simcoe Street.”

“I know where the theatre district is, yes sir.” 

“No need to call me sir, Will. Ours isn’t that kind of relationship. Now, good night, go have dinner and get some rest. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Do you need to speak with my father again?”

“Only if he needs to speak with me, Will.”

“Dad?” Will looked at his father holding out the phone to him. He shook his head ‘no” and said ‘Dinner’s ready, son.” 

“I guess not, Doctor. Good night.”

“Good night, Will. I look forward to seeing you.” 

“Um, goodbye.” 

“Goodbye, Will.” 

WIll hung up the phone and joined his father at the kitchen sink to wash his hands, grateful to slip back into a familiar routine. 

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

The next day at three fifty five, a very nervous young man sat in a comfortable, well-furnished anteroom, its walls covered with detailed sketches of European scenes from Paris or Italy and tried to stop his legs from shaking. The door to the office opened and an older, distinguished looking gentleman, dressed in a three piece checked suit and tie, stepped forward and extended a hand. 

“Will, a pleasure. Please, let me take that paperwork and come inside.”

He walked into a two-story office and stood looking around himself in amazement. His eyes flickered to the upstairs mezzanine with all of its books and he itched to climb the ladder upwards and lose himself in the leatherbound delights. He swallowed audibly and looked around at more artwork on the walls along with sculptures on display around the room. 

Dr. Lecter watched his newest patient take in the surroundings as he took the paperwork back to his desk, sat and checked to make sure it was all complete before continuing. Filing it away, he rose and moved toward Will. 

“Did you draw these Dr. Lecter?”

“Indeed I did, Will. But this session is not about me. There are many people concerned for your well-being. Myself among them. Please take a seat.”

“That’s not true. You’re paid to care.”

“I am taking this case pro-bono. And even if I wasn’t, my duties as a therapist, as a physician, dictate that I do no harm.”

“That doesn’t automatically imply caring.”

“I mentioned concern. The state is asking to ascertain whether you are a danger to yourself or others, Mr. Graham. The suddenness of the outburst, the violence of your actions necessitated your presence here today.” 

“Will, please.”

“I was merely impressing upon you the seriousness of the situation.”

Will scowled and bit his lip, shutting off the retort before he could utter it. Getting his therapist mad at him wasn’t going to help his case.

“Will, look at me.”

His eyes skidded and slid over Dr. Lecter’s face as if it was ice covered and then he noticed the pocket square. Relieved, he focused on that as if it was a life line in a maelstrom and his body relaxed.

_ ‘Interesting,’  _ thought the doctor. 

“I’m very glad to see you’ve relaxed, Will. You can tell me anything you wish. This is a safe place. I do have to tell you that for the most part confidentiality reigns supreme. However, if you tell me you are going to hurt yourself or someone else, I am honor bound to report it.”

Will nodded and sucked in a breath and let it out again. 

“As you are a few months shy of your eighteenth birthday, I also have to tell you that your father has the right to know the content of your treatment as he signed his consent. However, that changes when you reach eighteen, when the law deems you mature enough to make your own decisions. If you wanted me not to disclose anything to your father at that point, I would obey your wishes. I will, of course, maintain your privacy in dealings with your father as much as I am able to up to that time, given the constraints of the law. Do you understand what I’ve explained Will? I need you to look me in the eye and give me your verbal assurance. If you want me to go over anything, I will be more than happy to do so.” 

Will allowed his eyes to drift upward again to Dr. Lecter’s face. 

“I understand the distinctions Dr. Lecter and the rules that you’ve laid out for how this is going to go. This is going to take some time isn’t it?”

“I can’t make any predictions, Will. The mind can be a tricky thing.”

Hannibal watched Will’s eyes drift down to his pocket square and noticed how tight he gripped the edge of the chair he was sitting in, the knuckles turning white.

“Would you like some tea, coffee or water, Will?” 

“Wha? Why?” Will croaked out the reply.

“To be sociable while we talk.”

“Do you do that with everyone?”

“Does it matter? I’m choosing to do it with you. The others should not concern you. This is your time. Shall I?” 

“Tea, please.” 

Hannibal rose and walked to a separate cabinet against the wall and opened one of the wooden doors. Will could see an electric kettle, much like they had in Europe, along with cups and saucers. He watched the older man flip open a metal catch on a glass container and a citrusy mint smell filled the room. 

“I blend my own teas. This is lemon verbena along with some lavender and extra dried lemon peel. I hope you like it.” 

The water boiled and Dr. Lecter quickly measured the tea and poured the water over for it to steep. He pulled a small tray from a shelf inside the cabinet and loaded it with the teapot, cups, saucers, a spoon and a sugar bowl. Carrying it with elan, he placed most of the items on the table next to Will, except for one cup and saucer which he placed on his own table, leaving the tray upright in between the table and his chair before sitting down again.

“Now, please tell me what happened that day at school, Will.”

“I don’t want to,” Will whispered. 

Dr. Lecter waited and watched as Will inwardly struggled with himself to say anything about that horrible day before deciding that it wasn’t going to help anything to keep quiet.

“You’ll think I’m crazy.”

“Please Will, do not presume to tell me what I am thinking. I would never entertain such thoughts. And I don’t use that term. It’s rude and derogatory.”

Will sighed as he thought  _ ‘he’s not going to give up. Tenacious. I suppose that’s a good thing.’ _

“I was fine, up until I touched him. Then it was like a pendulum of light in my head and a static sort of sound. I looked in his eyes and I knew. He killed it and he loved doing it. His eyes had a wild sort of glazed gleefulness in them. He couldn’t wait to brag about it. That’s when I lost it.”

Dr. Lecter rose and walked over to the teapot during Will’s story and poured out a cup, walking back to his chair and repeating the action. He sat down and took up the cup and sipped as Will finished, placing his drink back on his side table.

“Whom did he kill Will? What made you so angry?”

“Not whom. An animal. A - a-” Will’s voice was flat but Dr. Lecter watched his left leg bob up and down tapping out an imaginary tune. Will took a breath, sighed and said “a dog.” 

Dr. Lecter rose again to walk to his desk and picked up the box of tissues before placing them on the side table next to Will who had his head in his hands, elbows on his knees. Dr. Lecter pulled several of the tissues out of the box, crouched down in front of the distraught young man and pushed the tissues into his hands, not touching him in any other way.

“Will, can you hear me? I need you to breathe deeply in through your nose and exhale through your mouth. Please sit backward in the chair.” 

He watched him respond, noticing how he calmed himself and brought himself quickly under control before lowering his hands away from his face. Dr. Lecter stood quickly and produced a waste basket from some unseen spot and held it out to Will to deposit the crumbled tissues in. He left it near Will’s chair and handed him the cup of tea.

“You may find it more palatable with sugar,” Dr. Lecter watched as Will sniffed the aroma deeply before taking a tentative sip. He smiled and grinned over the teacup and took one sugar cube and carefully dropped it in with the sugar tongs, stirring it carefully with the spoon. He was aware it was no ordinary mug, but bone china, a delicate thing. He could see the ovals in the porcelain from where the rice grains had been placed before firing. Taking a deeper sip, and humming his appreciation, he looked through the steam at his therapist who was also sipping his tea but from a completely different cup and saucer. 

“Do you feel better Will?” 

He watched the young man nod vigorously. 

“Cathartic. To tell someone what really happened. It can be exhilarating, liberating. I would like you to keep a notebook, a journal if you like. Jot down when the pendulum and the static occurs and what happened before and after please. If you have nightmares, jot those down as well, as soon after waking as you can. Keep the journal at your bedside at night. The quicker you write things down the better. It doesn’t have to be full sentences, a few words or phrases will do. Anything to bring it back to you when you need it. Understand?” He watched the young man process the information as he drank his tea.

Dr. Lecter stood and placed his cup on the side table before crossing to a small bookcase. He pulled a leatherbound book off of the bottom shelf and carrying it, walked over to Will. He perched on the edge of his desk and waited patiently for the young man to finish his tea, watching him placing the delicate cup back on the table carefully. Will looked up at his therapist expectantly. 

“This is for you Will. To get started on,” said Dr. Lecter as he handed Will the book. Will pulled himself up in the chair, putting distance between himself and the offered book, shaking his head no. 

“I’m not a charity case.”

“I never said you were. You have responsibilities and obligations once you leave here. I doubt very much you will have time the rest of this week to go shopping.”

“Presumptuous of you.”

“Not the worst thing I’ve been accused of. I should like you to get started this evening. That’s why I’m giving you the journal. It will help you to recall this office, my directive, whenever you open the book. Which will in turn, help focus you on the task at hand.”   
  


“Well, when you explain it like that, I don’t see how I can refuse.” 

Will reached out with both hands and took the leatherbound book. Dr. Lecter was pleased to see how carefully he held it, running his fingers over the embossed cover, surreptitiously inhaling the aroma of the leather as he briefly clutched it to his chest with one hand while he opened his book bag with the other, before slipping it gently inside. 

“I want you to write about the attack and any dreams you’ve had since that day, starting tonight.”

Will nodded as Dr. Lecter returned to his chair and sat down before he spoke again.

“Next, just a bit of housekeeping. We can meet every week at this time. If you can’t make it, you must call in advance twenty four hours and leave a message. If you don’t call and don’t show up, it’s a ‘no-show’ appointment. Two no-shows and I must drop you as a patient no matter how much progress we are making. You are the last appointment of the day. If you are going to be late, I expect you to give me the courtesy of calling and telling me. I won’t allow it often but there are times it’s out of your control, some emergency at school, you see?” as Hannibal handed him a business card. 

Will nodded and tucked the card into his wallet. 

“Will, I don’t need to remind you not to attack anyone else or harm yourself?”

  
“No, Dr. Lecter. Thank you for the tea,-” Will paused and took a breath before saying, “-and the journal.” He picked up his book bag and left the office.

_ ‘What an interesting young man.’ _ mused Hannibal. 

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

Later that evening, after homework, dinner and chores, Will said goodnight to his father and went to his room. He closed the door and placed his book bag on the bed. He opened it carefully taking out the leatherbound book with two hands. ‘ _ Dr. Lecter was right. It’s as if i was sitting in his office again with him across from me.’ _

He crossed the room to his tiny desk, picking up a ball point pen and returned to set his book bag on the floor before laying on the bed with the journal in front of him. ‘ _ He’s not scary. He’s interesting, reminds me of something dangerous, a tiger perhaps.I can’t read him though, not like other adults. He’s a puzzle. He didn’t make me feel like a freak at all,’  _ thought Will as he started to write down as much as he could remember about the nightmare and attacks.

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

Counselor Alana Bloom drove up the large circular drive, heading for the area reserved for valet parking. The Botanical Gardens Annual Fundraising Event, “Baltimore Blooms” always kicked off the fall philanthropic social calendar and available tickets were difficult to come by. She had won hers by donating to the local Public Television Station during one of their fundraising drives. Checking her hair in the rear view mirror and deeming it acceptable, she handed her keys to the valet along with a generous tip. 

This year, instead of being held at one of the larger hotels downtown, a generous benefactor opened their private home, located on the Severn River, for the event. As she passed through the foyer, she saw the living room filled with flowers along with several strategically placed food stations and wait staff circulating with hot and cold Hors d'oeuvres. A bar was set up in the dining room, serving wine, beer and specialty drinks. Peeking around the corner, she saw a string quartet just tuning up and accepting a burst of applause.

Through all the clamor and tumult, she could still hear the sound of classical music. Taking a glass of wine from one of the wait staff, she followed the sound until she found the piano tucked in between two walls of windows in the living room. Whomever was playing could look out right over the river without having to move. 

“Of course, it would be you.”

“Counselor Bloom. How lovely to see you!” said Hannibal as he rose from the piano bench to take her hand. 

“Dr. Lecter! Please don’t stop playing!”

“Nonsense. The quartet is starting up now. I only play in the breaks.”

Drawing him aside conspiratorially, “Is there anyone else here I would know socially?”

“I believe I saw Principal Crawford earlier. Perhaps on one of the decks?” 

^^^^^^^

“Good evening, Principal Crawford. A pleasure to see you outside of business hours.”

“Likewise. You have yet to meet my husband, Counselor. May I introduce Special Agent Jack Crawford.” 

“Oh! I had no idea! How do I address you at an event like this?”

“Well, unless you’ve committed a felony, Jack will be fine,” he laughed, his eyes twinkling. 

“I’ll leave you two to talk. I see Mrs. Komeda. There’s something I need to speak with her about,” said Principal Crawford. Jack’s eyes followed her as she walked out of the room. 

“It’s an honor to work with her, Jack. She really cares about the students. It’s so refreshing to see. It could easily be a stepping-stone type of job.”

“My job’s exciting enough for the two of us.”

“Do both of you come to this every year ?”

“Yes. My Bella loves her gardens. So do you have any students applying for the internship this year?”

“A few weeks ago, I would have been jumping up and down with enthusiasm at that question.”

Jack took a sip of his Johnnie Walker and looked at Alana, not seeming interested in the answer.

“There’s a student who wants to be a police officer. Whip smart. Keeps to himself. Up to a few weeks ago, that is.”

“Ah! Bella’s project.”

“You knew? Why ask me?”

“You misunderstand me, Counselor Bloom. The student in question has always been nameless in any discussions. I know the situation but not the young man’s name. But he sounds like he has many qualities that would fit in well with the program.”

“Why him? He’s damaged.”

“Not irreparably. Bella mentioned something about him which I find fascinating. You said he’s in treatment. So we have a discussion with the therapist. Then with the young man and his parents.”

“You’re pushing, Jack.”

“We have two weeks to go with no applicants for the first time since the program started. It sets a bad precedent in the community. Principal Crawford agrees with me.” 

“If speed is of the essence, go speak to his therapist who is playing the piano.” Alana nodded her head in Dr. Lecter’s direction, leading with her chin.

“Distinguished man in an elegant setting. I thought he owned the house.” 

“Let’s go and check our social calendars then.” 

As they walked, Jack picked up an herb crusted salmon fish finger from a tuxedoed wait staff, eating it neatly in three quick bites before cleaning himself up with a paper napkin which was deposited onto the next tray that passed him, along with his whiskey glass. 

Dr. Lecter was surrounded by a small group of music aficionados, many that he knew from the charity events for the symphony and the hospitals. Jack and Alana waited on the outskirts of the group, Alana catching Hannibal’s eye, and when everyone drifted away to watch the full moon over the water off the second floor deck, he came over to join the two of them.

Alana made the introductions. 

“Dr. Hannibal Lecter, may I introduce Special Agent Jack Crawford of the FBI.”

“Have you come to arrest me, Special Agent Crawford?”

“Why does everyone think all I do all day is lurk and arrest people? No, Dr. Lecter. The three of us need to meet to discuss someone and all I need to do now is confirm an appointment time and collect my wife.”

“This is unseemly, especially at such an event.”

“We don’t have much time, Dr. Lecter. Two weeks for the paperwork. And there are meetings with the patient and his father before we can proceed.”

Hannibal looked fiercely at Alana and made a moue of distaste with his mouth. “This goes against everything,” he whispered harshly.

“I apologize Dr. Lecter. I can give you my reasons later. Please all we want to do is set some appointments and we’ll leave you alone this evening.”

Hannibal said nothing, thinking,  _ ‘You will owe me Alana and now to have the FBI indebted. How handy for me.’ _

“Very well,” he pulled out his iphone and opened his calendar. 

“I have an opening at five o’clock the day after tomorrow. Please both be there.” He made an entry on his phone and turned it off, pocketing it. 

“If you will forgive me, I need to take a short break before the quartet finishes this movement.”

“Of course, Dr. Lecter. Thank you for your generosity.”

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^ 

Both of them sat in the anteroom, Jack impassive and Alana tapping her foot nervously, waiting for Dr. Lecter. Exactly at five pm, the door opened and both were greeted warmly and ushered into the larger office. 

Dr. Lecter took a seat behind his desk and motioned to the comfortable chairs rearranged so they faced the desk instead of each other. 

“Please have a seat and explain to me the urgency of the situation. Which patient?” 

“Will Graham,” answered Alana.

Hannibal’s eyes narrowed. “Are either of you here in your official capacity, Special Agent Crawford, Counselor Bloom?”

“No, nothing like that at all!” chuckled Jack, hands held upward, palms facing Hannibal.

“This is for the FBI annual internship, the Future Agents in Training program. This is the first year that we’ve had minimal applicants and I’ve been pressured by my superiors to rectify that,” explained Jack, tone conciliatory. 

“I’m surprised that Principal Crawford would break confidentiality and speak to you about this particular student.”

“That’s unfair Dr. Lecter. Confidentiality was maintained, scrupulously so. Until this moment, I didn’t know his name. All I know is he’s a brilliant student who got into trouble.” 

“Forgive me, Special Agent Crawford. There are not many with your dedication to principles.”

“Thank you. Let’s not stand on ceremony, Dr. Lecter. You don’t have to use my title. Jack is fine for this.”

Hannibal smiled and relaxed in his chair, fingers toying with a freshly sharpened pencil on his desk. 

“Very well, _ Jack,”  _ Hannibal looked at Alana and fixed her in his gaze, then cocked his head to the side slightly as if to say “Well?”

“Dr. Lecter, in my capacity at the school, I work to place students in internships. It’s good for the students and the community. Jack came to me to discuss whether there were any candidates this year. I said up to a few weeks ago, I would have no reservations recommending a student.”

She held his gaze and bristled slightly. “I need to know if that’s still the case. Is he stable enough? He’s doing much better at school since he started to come to you. But this is more than school Dr. Lecter. More opportunities. I need to know which ones those are.” 

Hannibal stood abruptly and walked over to a small bookcase, where he pulled an oversized leather-backed book off the shelf and brought it back to his desk. He sat and opened it to a half-filled page, opened a desk drawer and pulled out an old fashioned fountain pen, notated the date and time, jotting some notes in an elegant handwriting, blotted the page and then closed the book. 

“If Will continues therapy for the duration of the FBI internship, I would have no reservations recommending him for the program. He is stable for office/administrative work. No field work Jack. I must insist on that. It’s an absolute deal breaker as is the requirement for continued therapy with me. Keep him away from the bad guys Jack, don’t let him too close.”

“He won’t get too close. I can promise you that.”

And with that promise, Alana pulled paperwork from her briefcase, handing it across to Hannibal. 

“I cannot promise Jack. Will has to want this. I won’t coax him into it,” Hannibal stated outwardly, but his thoughts were elsewhere.  _ ‘I can suggest it as a therapeutic process and observe where the possibilities take the young man. With my recommendation, the father will agree.” _

He left the papers on the desk, rising, he thanked both of his visitors, showing them to the exit and his smile was lovely and warm to see. He checked his watch and pulled out his phone dialing a number.

“Good evening, Mr. Graham. Will you and Will be available this evening? There’s an opportunity that’s come up that I would like to discuss with both of you. Wonderful. See you soon. Thank you.”

Walking back to the desk, humming an aria under his breath, he placed the paperwork inside the recently closed book before picking it up and leaving the office locked behind him. 

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

They had just finished clearing the kitchen when the doorbell rang. Will was in the kitchen, pouring a glass of iced tea for himself when he heard the voices. 

“Mr. Graham, we’ve never met but have spoken on the phone. I’m Dr. Lecter. Thank you for seeing me this evening and forgive the interruption.”

“Not all all. It’s nice to put a face to a name. Now, where would you like to sit, Dr. Lecter?” his father’s southern courtesy on display.

“I have paperwork to go over with you both. A table would be preferable please.”

“Let’s go in the kitchen then. Will? Why don’t you offer our guest something? I need my reading glasses.”

“Please sit down, Dr. Lecter. We don’t have anything fancy. I can offer coffee, iced tea, milk or water.” 

“I will try the iced tea please,” said Hannibal.

“I was going to put some lemon in mine. Would you like some?” 

Will flushed with embarrassment, looking around at the slightly shabby but clean kitchen. He remembered that the fancy glasses were on the top shelf of the cupboard and opened the door to get them out. He stood on his tiptoes, one hand splayed on the countertop and reached up with the other to fumble for a glass. Suddenly, he felt a larger hand on his hip holding him still and saw Dr. Lecter’s longer arm reach up, brush his outstretched arm and grasp the glass which had threatened to tumble out of Will’s hand. Will closed his eyes and let out a small squeak, his whole body starting at the unexpected contact, struggling to get his involuntary reactions under control. He pulled his outstretched hand back and gripped the countertop. Dr. Lecter moved his hand from his hip to Will’s splayed hand, fitting his fingers in between Will’s, but pressing down as he went on tiptoe for another glass. Will was torn between wanting to lean backwards or stay as he was. He wasn’t sure if he whined or not.

“Hush, Will,” came the whispered command in his ear and just as quick, it was over. Hannibal stepped away and sat down at the table. 

“I would love it if you would fix mine as you would fix your own, Will.” 

“You neglecting our guest, son?”

“Please Mr. Graham, it’s fine. You have a lovely home. Will is very lucky,” Hannibal said as he pulled the book from his briefcase, setting it on the table, then placing the briefcase on the floor. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Will in his periphery, slicing lemons wafer thin and putting them in the best glasses and pouring the tea over. 

Will carried the drinks over and asked his father what he would like. 

“I’ll just have the coffee brewed from dinner. Now come and sit. We don’t have all evening.”

Will returned, placing a cup by his father and getting a hand roughly ruffling through his hair and took a seat.

“You ok, son? You look flushed.”

“DAAADDD!”

Hannibal picked up his glass and took a sip. “Delicious! Thank you, Will.” 

  
Will could feel his face burning and murmured a reply. He met his therapist’s eyes and saw them crinkle as he smiled. Will put both his elbows on the table, propping his face up and covering his cheeks with his hands and tried to think of something, anything other than Dr. Lecter. 

“I don’t know if either of you are aware there is an FBI internship and it goes for the end of the school year and the rest of the summer. It ends just before September. In order to qualify, grades have to be of course sufficient and there has to be a recommendation letter. Will would have to write a letter of intent of course.”

“Well, this sounds all very interesting but why tonight?”

‘I was approached by Counselor Bloom today and someone from the FBI. They aren’t getting as many applicants as they usually do. There are vacancies. The Special Agent who came to my office were looking for exceptional students for those vacancies. Time is off the essence. There are only two weeks till the deadline.”

“It’s up to Will.”

“Actually, it’s up to both of you, Mr. Graham.”

“Will? You interested? You can’t slack off at school though.” 

Will was so excited he thought he was vibrating. He had dropped his hands from his face as soon as he heard FBI and sat clasping his hands in his lap, his eyes pleading.

“I can do it, sir.” He only used the honorific in extreme situations. He wasn’t going to beg but he knew that by saying it, his father would understand how important this was to him.

Hannibal smiled inwardly to himself, so pleased with how things were going. _ ‘Just a bit more and it’s done.’ _

“Mr. Graham, you should know the Special Agent promised me that any student who took this opportunity would only be performing administrative work. Will will not be in the field and exposed to danger. Secondly, my requirement is that Will continue his therapy with me for the entire duration of the internship.” 

“But the cost-” Mr. Graham paled at the financial implication.

“As I said in our first conversation, Mr. Graham, I am doing this pro-bono. Here is your check back,” Hannibal said smoothly as he pulled out his wallet and pushed the unredeemed check across the table. 

‘Will is an exceptionally talented student. The internship is exactly the kind of thing the scholarship board will look upon as proof that the small ‘mishap’ is behind him. If Will decides to go into public service or law enforcement, it’s a feather in his cap.” Hannibal sat, sipping his tea and waited to see what would happen next.

“Son, are you good with this? You understand Dr. Lecter is vouching for your good behavior? Will he go after school? That’s going to mean late nights. And with his homework?”

“I have no concerns about Will’s behavior at all Mr. Graham. The school allows Will to leave his last two periods which I believe are his study periods-” Hannibal looked to Will for confirmation and receiving a nod, continued, “- for the internship. It’s one day a week during the school year for two hours. Of course, the hours will be different during the summer. If it turns out that Will needs tutoring due to the internship, that will be arranged. As his sponsor, it falls to me to arrange that.”

“Do you need to think about this Will? I’m fine with it providing it doesn’t interfere with your schoolwork or your grades. Dr. Lecter, you promise to notify me immediately if it becomes too much of a burden.”

“Naturally,” Hannibal finished his drink, licking his lips and set the glass on the table. 

“Father, I want this so badly. It will be good for me. I’ll make you proud,” Will’s voice shook with excitement and he picked up his drink, gulping it and sucking on the wafer-thin lemons, needing the burst of citrus. 

“I’m already proud of you son. Ok, where do we sign?” 

Will looked at Dr. Lecter as his father bent his head over the papers and mouthed a silent “thank you” to which Hannibal nodded once to him and smiled in return, fangs flashing in his handsome face.

^^^^^^^^^^^^

The next therapy session arrived and Will was sitting, reading his one of his assigned English books, “Hamlet”, when Hannibal opened the door and greeted the student. 

“Are you enjoying it Will? No nightmares?”

“I am, Dr. Lecter. I didn’t think I would. We are going to watch the long version at a special assembly tomorrow - the four hour one. The one directed by that English actor. No nightmares, no.”

Will took his usual seat, leaving his book bag by the door. 

“Tea?” 

This also became their ritual, a bit unorthodox but Will treasured the quiet space before being poked and prodded. 

“Yes, please,” he relaxed and smiled, a look of contentment on his face. He wasn’t aware he sighed, but Hannibal caught the noise and turned to look as the tea leaves steeped. 

“Most of my clients don’t have that look on their face when they are in this office, Will. It makes my heart lighter knowing you feel like that here.”

“Dr. Lecter, how do you  _ see _ me?” 

“As I told your father, you have an exceptional mind. Lapsang souchong today,” replied Hannibal as he handed a cup and saucer to Will. 

“Wow! That’s a different aroma.”

“Do you not like it? The leaves have been smoked over pine needles. I can make you something else?”

“No, it’s fine. I wasn’t expecting this. It’s interesting,” Will took a cautious sip and swallowed. It wasn’t his favorite but it wasn’t bad. 

“Life is about new experiences,” Hannibal watched Will’s face and the fleeting change of expressions as he sipped his tea.

Dr. Lecter? What happened in the kitchen before my father came in?”

“Did you experience a fugue state Will? Do you not remember? The glasses were on the top shelf and I was worried that the one you were reaching for was going to topple and fall off the shelf. It was obvious you had difficulty reaching them. I didn’t want you to get hurt or to have anything break. My reach is longer than yours. I only assisted in getting them down.”

“Do you like me?”

“I don’t understand this line of questioning. You don’t strike me as someone who is lacking in self confidence.”

Will placed the tea on the side table and rubbed his face with both hands.  _ ‘Why is this so difficult? He’s obviously deflecting.’ _

“Do you like me - romantically?”

Hannibal finished his tea and placed the cup aside before responding. “You are a minor, Will. It would be unethical and I would lose my license not to mention being incarcerated. Have I behaved improperly, Will? Because if I have, I need to have you see another therapist immediately,” Hannibal stood and went to get his day planner.

“STOP!” WIll covered his face with one of his hands and stuck the other out, as if reaching for his therapist, palm outward, fingers splayed. 

Hannibal stopped and sat on the edge of his desk, facing Will. 

“I don’t want another therapist. I just didn’t know why you touched me. If it meant something.”

“It was on instinct, Will. I saw a potentially dangerous situation. I only touched you to keep you still. I was afraid that if you moved at all - the glass would fall and shatter. Would you have rather that I shove you out of the way and thereby ensuring the very accident I was hoping to prevent?”

Will sighed and put his head in his hands. “No one at school likes me. They’re all afraid of me, give me a wide berth when they pass me in the halls. I’ve never dated, never been to a dance. Am I cursed to be alone?” 

“You often worry about being alone?”   
  
“Sometimes. Being alone comes with a dull ache, doesn’t it?   
  
“It can. You are searching for something as are most people. The most beautiful quality of a true friendship is to understand and be understood with absolute clarity. You will find it in due time.”: 

“I’m sorry Dr. Lecter. I didn’t mean to say you did something inappropriate. I just needed to be clear.”

“It’s fine, Will. You can always ask me to be clear. It’s what I’m supposed to be. Now if we have exhausted this topic, I would like to discuss your journal,” he said as he took his seat again across from his client.

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

The week passed quickly and one afternoon, a letter came addressed to William Graham from the FBI. He held it with two fingers, as if it burned to touch it. He decided he would open it after dinner when his father relaxed with his usual cup of coffee. He left it in the living room along with the rest of the mail and went to work on his homework. 

Later that evening, Will relaxed with a glass of ice tea and his dad sat with his coffee. His father could sense something was up, some sort of news that Will wanted to announce. ‘ _ I’ll help him out a bit. He’s like a skittery deer.’  _ He took a sip of his coffee, trying to keep the smile off his face. 

“So anything happen in school today?”

“No, um, nothing special.” 

“Huh. Anything you want to tell me?”

“Got some mail. I’ll get it.” Will stood up abruptly and all but raced into the living room to grab the small pile of mail and returned handing it to his father, suddenly shy, sitting down as if he lost feeling in his feet. 

He watched his dad take his time sorting the mail into two piles, junk and usually bills. He pushed one pile to the end of the table and went through the smaller ‘important’ pile before pulling out a letter. 

“Well, this one isn’t addressed to me. It’s from the FBI. Did you go and do something foolish, Will?” his eyes twinkled as he handed it over to his son and watched him slit open the envelope and pull out the letter inside. 

Will put the folded letter on the table without opening it. 

“Go on son. It’s your letter. Read it.”

“It’ll change everything.”

“Thought that’s what you wanted?”

Will took a big breath, in and out, before unfolding the letter and reading it. His face broke into a warm smile and he was so happy his ears wiggled.

Will whooped and handed the letter to his father. “I got it!”

“Congratulations, Will! So proud of you!”

Will sat beaming and squirming with excitement as he watched his father read the letter, both falling back into a familiar camaraderie. Will could see his father relax, glad to have some normalcy, some evidence of stability as if the letter could bestow that upon the young man sitting in the kitchen.  _ ‘He won’t worry so much about me now. A weight he didn’t know he’s carrying is gone. I can see it.”  _

“I’m going to finish my homework. OK?”

“Don’t stay up to late. ‘K? We’ll go to the second hand store and get you a suit and a tie for your new job. Gotta make an impression, right?”

Will blushed and tried to duck his head at the news, silently pleased and went to put his glass near the sink.

His father stood up and came over to embrace him in a rough hug, ruffling his hair, and kissing his brow as he murmured how proud he was of him and how he was going to run rings around everyone. 

“Smartest guy in the room, that’s you.”

Will laughed with joy and hugged his father tight. “Got it from you, dad.” 

“Nah, don’t think so. Go on. I got a kitchen to clean.”

Will headed off to his room and as he was by the doorway to the kitchen, he said, “Love you Dad.”

“Love you mostest, son. Night.”

^^^^^^^^^^^

The alarm went off and Will swung his legs out and sat on the edge of the bed. He had taken a shower the evening before and his suit was pressed as if waiting for him to get dressed. It was a lucky find, dark charcoal grey and not too horribly out of date. He pulled his white shirt on and buttoned it up then quickly finished dressing. He had polished his dress shoes the night before. They were the only pair he owned, kept for special occasions, mostly funerals, but that was all going to change today. He sung a snatch of a song under his breath, “Nothing can break, nothing can break me down. Don’t need no advice, I got a plan,” as he walked into the kitchen. What he saw stopped him in his tracks. 

“Dad?”

“Morning, Special Agent William Graham,” said his father in a cheerful voice as he finished cooking some scrambled eggs. He scooped some eggs on a plate which already had a waiting piece of toast oozing butter. 

“A Special Agent needs his protein and I wanted you to have a hot meal.” 

“But dad, can we-”

“Yes we can, Will. Eat up. The day comes I can’t feed my family is the day I’m in my grave.”

Will sat at the kitchen table as his stomach rumbled. He scooped some of the fluffy eggs into his mouth and hummed his appreciation. Swallowing he said, “Good dad. Thanks!”

“I’m off to work. Leave the pan to soak in the sink. Love you.”

^^^^^^^^^^

The day went by quickly for Will. Of course, there are subdued catcalls over his outfit but he paid them no mind. Honestly, after he went berserk on Johnston, most of the students leave him alone, unsure of what triggered the attack and not willing to incite another. 

He headed out of school to the provided shuttle bus which will take him to the FBI Regional Headquarters. As he alights from the bus along with the few other students, he sees someone waiting for the group to assemble just outside the building. He’s smartly dressed, imposing in stature and bearing. Someone not to be trifled with, obviously. 

“Listen up! I’m Special Agent Crawford and I’m in charge of you while you’re here. You will be assigned to work with various agents for the duration of your internship. If they say jump, you say ‘Sir, yes sir!’ Got it? File in one at a time so you can get your badge from Special Agent Lass. You don’t go anywhere without it. It doesn’t leave this building. She will show you where the lockers are. All cell phones will be locked in your lockers. Understood? This is a hard rule. Break it and you are automatically thrown out of the program. Dismissed.” 

As Will passed him, he got a sense of dogged determination, fierce pride in his team and a strong sense of integrity. Will liked him even more. As he walked in, an agent handed him his card and told him to line up with the group. They were escorted to their lockers where they stowed their book bags, jackets, purses and cell phones. Each one of them was patted down before they left the locker room. One of the students had the courage to ask about the phones and was told their security clearance wasn’t high enough to have one. Some of the students laughed at the answer but one look at the scowling face of Special Agent Lee insured that they wouldn’t laugh again. 

They were marched into an auditorium where another Special Agent led them through security, and federal regulations which meant for the interns, it’s a closed and locked down site. Nothing brought in or out. Any notes taken stay on site and at the end of your tour (aka shift) a clean desk policy was in force for everyone. The students were assigned to various departments and as their name was called they filed out. 

“Graham.”

Will stood and exited the room where he was met by a tall, dark, scruffy man in a white doctor’s coat. “Hi, I’m Brian Zeller. You are going to be working with us in Forensics. No hands on stuff for you I’m afraid,” he chuckled and smiled putting Will at ease.

When they entered the lab area, Brian led Will over to a computer station. “This is your spot for the long haul. We’ve been told you’ve been approved for both the semester and summer sessions. That’s pretty rare. They must have been really impressed! Oh, here’s my coworker, Jimmy Price. Jimmy, this is William Graham.”

“Hi! Pleased to meet you! I specialize in fingerprints along with other less savory things. Do you prefer William or Will? Although you might just get addressed by last name if any of the head honchos come through.” 

“Price!” Zeller hissed and made a horizontal motion across his throat.

“What? Not to their face! And it’s true!”

Will flushed at the informal friendly bickering. This wasn’t what he was expecting.

Jimmy Price reminded Will of a friendly golden labrador retriever in terms of personality, all affability on the surface, but loyal and smart underneath. Zeller made a mock motion to cuff the smaller man on the head as he walked out of the room. Will got the sense that this happened all the time between them, the good natured bickering. 

“It’s just Will please. Not William.”

Price turned back to Will and grabbed a chair. “Let’s get you started. They won’t let you into most areas on the computer because of security clearances. So don’t go poking around where you shouldn’t! Because the system tracks your movements and flags any attempts to breach an area. Instant dismissal along with some pretty serious consequences. But they told you all that? No web surfing. You don’t have internet access anyway. ”

Will nodded and was handed a three ring binder along with a spiral notebook. He sat back, listening and taking notes as Jimmy rattled off tips and trained him on how to get into the computer and get his programs set up. Once that was done, Jimmy had Will use the desk phone to call IT and set up his passwords. 

“One last thing from me today, Will. I need to fingerprint you. Then someone will come in and go over what you’re going to be working on from now on. Come on, let’s go in the lab.”

^^^^^^^^^

Will sat back at his desk, using antibacterial soap and some tissues to clean his hands, head down and focused on getting the black ink off. 

“Graham! I see you’ve been processed.”

Will jumped at the booming voice, not expecting to hear it again today.

“Special Agent Crawford, sir!” Will wasn’t sure if he should stand or salute and decided the best course would be to stay seated. 

“You’re not in the military so I can’t tell you “at ease” Graham. But “at ease.” Sorry I startled you. I have been told I have that effect on people.” 

Will grabbed the tissues and hastily tossed them in the wastebasket, then reached for his notebook.

“What I need is a database Graham. You know Excel? You are going to be taking all the field reports and entering the data into a spreadsheet. Everything catalogued. If I come back to you in six weeks time, I want to be able to tell that a six foot seven, red haired albino kidnapped so and so on such and such a date at the dark of the moon. Get it? Every scrap of data is going to go in this spreadsheet here. You are going to be responsible for this, no one else. We don’t have manpower to get this started, I can’t take the experts from their jobs catching bad guys. So it’s not going to be glamorous. But you are going to help us put away people, bad people. Understood?”

Will nodded, eyes gleaming. “Yessir.”

“Good. Now I have a barebones grid here in this file. You are going to expand on this.” 

Price and Zeller walked by to get coffee from the Alterra coffee truck and saw the two of them, heads together, focused on the computer. 

“We got a good one, didn’t we?” said Price.

“Yup. We did. Watch out, he’ll take your job.”

“Nope, that’s not for him. If Jack likes him, he’s got something.” 

The two shook their heads in agreement. It had been years since Jack Crawford took an interest in any intern. The last had been Miriam Lass.

^^^^^^^^^^^^^

Will settled into a routine between his schoolwork, his therapy sessions and now the FBI internship. He had made it through finals week with his Honor Roll GPA intact and the subsequent Christmas season. He and his father never did huge things at Christmas. It was enough for them both to put the tree up and decorate it. Will enjoyed being able to just spend time with his father who got both Christmas Eve and Christmas day off work and then the next week, New Year’s Eve and New Years. His father bought him a grey, cream and burgundy striped tie for his charcoal suit and he made his father some fishing lures which he put in a handmade cedar box. 

He enjoyed his work at the bureau and fit right in with the other two lab geeks, watching them bicker good naturedly but appreciating the intellectual skills both of them brought to their careers. It was hard for Will to believe he had been there for over three months now. Things were going well in therapy and Will didn’t understand why Dr. Lecter wanted him to still attend their sessions. But as it was a requirement for keeping the FBI job, Will kept attending and working on his journals. He still had the pendulum thing and the static but not as bad as before. 

All this passed through his mind as he sat on the edge of his bed not quite believing it was his eighteenth birthday! He was going to work at the bureau tonight and then come home to have dinner with his father. He quickly got dressed in his usual suit, putting on the tie his father gave him for Christmas for the first time today. He beamed as he walked into the kitchen. 

His father was in the kitchen filling his thermos as he glanced at his son. 

“Something on the table, Will.”

Will neglected that and walked over to his father, his blue eyes tearing up a bit and gave his father an abrupt hug. “Love you dad.”

His father hugged him back and pulled back, noticing the tie. “Special day today. Happy birthday son. Love you mostest.”

Will brushed away a tear and went to open his card. “Thank you dad. It’s perfect.” 

“I will have your present tonight son. Ok?” 

“You don’t have to get me anything. This is fine. I’ll make the rice for the Jambalaya when I get home.” 

“Nonsense! I’ve got to go. But I’ll be home by six tonight. See you later. Go catch some bad guys, Will.” 

“Love you dad. Have a good day.”

^^^^^^^^^

Later at his workstation, Will was handed a file from one of the agents and started to enter the data into the spreadsheet. Little did he realize what would be set in motion. Many of the agents had a fondness for the student, seeing something of themselves in his quiet studious nature. The majority of Will’s work was based from typed or handwritten reports, court records or other ephemera. Today is the first time that Jack Crawford has pushed the boundaries a little and allowed the crime scene photos to be shown to the intern. The intention is to digitize the photos and link them to the spreadsheet, thereby eliminating paper files all together. 

Jimmy comes over with the scanner and Jack is waiting with a stack of files. One half hour later, Will starts working. He tries not to spend too much time looking, rather examining the crime scene photos. It wouldn’t do to get those images stuck in his head. Inevitably, some pictures have to be reimaged either because his finger got in the way or the image got fuzzy. Then he doesn’t have any choice, he  _ has _ to look. Eventually, he gets through the stack for today and packs them in a cardboard box ready to be sent to the archives once it’s full. 

Price and Zeller bring over a cupcake with a candle stuck in it and insist on singing “Happy Birthday” to him once he finishes. They wait until the song is over before lighting the candle and having Will make a hasty wish and blow out the candle. 

“Don’t want to set off the smoke detectors. Hurry up Will!”

“Oh, god! Remember that time when someone brought a whole sheet cake in lit with candles when they set off the detectors and flooded the morgue? Whose fault was that?”

“The intern that Jack had for breakfast the next morning. We don’t speak about that one at all.” 

By this time the candle was out and Price was waving a file around, disapatting the smoke. Will laughed and split the cupcake between the three of them before heading home, licking the frosting from his fingers.

^^^^^^^^^^^^

Will arrived home and put his books away and changed out of his suit into his everyday comfortable Henley and jeans. He rinsed the rice and put it on to cook while he set the Jambalaya on the stove to reheat. The last thing before he went to do homework was to set the table. 

He heard his father come home about a half hour later and went to greet him. 

“Good timing! Just got here as the rice finished up cooking. Did you have a nice day?”

“Yes. They started me on a new project. I’m digitizing photos to be put into the database.” 

“Photos?”

“Crime scene photos.”

“Isn’t that a bit much?” 

“If I’m going to be working for the FBI, I have to get used to it.”

“But surely not now. You’re too young!”

“Please don’t say anything to spoil it. I’ll be fine.”

“You come to me if it gets too much, Will. They shouldn’t push you like this.”

“I will. I promise, dad.”

Will ladled out the rice and Jambalaya into bowls while his father walk into his bedroom and returned with a gift wrapped box.

“Happy birthday son. Go ahead and open it.”

Will sat at the table and ripped off the paper to find a slim covered box. Puzzled he opened it and gasped when he saw inside. A gleaming fillet knife for fish, a thing of lethal beauty.

“WOW! This is amazing! I love it! But you shouldn’t have; it’s too much money.”

“Nonsense! A good fillet knife is essential and it’s high time you had one! Watch yourself with that edge. It can cut down to bone or take a finger off with ease.”

“I’ll be careful, dad. Thank you. It’s a beauty,” Will got up from the table, placing the knife back in the box and went around to give his father a hug and kiss. 

“Come on. Food’s getting cold,” laughed his dad, embarrassed by the thanks. 

^^^^^^^^^^^^^

Later that night, Will’s dreams were haunted by bloody images, the most unsettling one was Will taking his shiny new filleting knife in one hand and slapping a large fish on the kitchen counter with the other. He slipped the knife into the still wriggling, thrashing fish and swiftly dragged the blade down its body. As expected there was some blood, watery at first. Then it was as if a spigot had been turned on, the blood becoming more viscous and thicker. It poured out of the fish and spread to the edge of the countertop where it flowed like a sticky, crimson waterfall. The blood reached the kitchen floor and started to spread out. Will backed up quickly to prevent it from getting on his shoes, but it was a futile effort. Within minutes, the blood covered his shoes and snuck it’s way into his shoes, soaking his socks and feet, squishing between his toes, shockingly cold. It was the cold that woke him, shuddering and gasping for breath. 

He reached for his journal to write down the dream, a faint smell of copper in his nose. 

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

The next morning, Will was pulled from sleep by the alarm. On the way to the shower, he glanced in the mirror, shocked by what he saw. His eyes looked red-rimmed as if he had been up all night. He was glad it was his day for his afternoon session with Dr. Lecter. He wondered what he would make of last night’s dream. Stepping into the shower, he wished the appointment was earlier in the day, uneasy at having to wait. He grabbed the soap and began to scrub at his feet, remembering his dream. 

^^^^^^^^^^^^^

Will sat tapping his foot, in his therapist’s anteroom. It reminded him of the first session all those months ago since he felt this way. Dr. Lecter opened the door and said warmly, “Right on time. Come in Will.” Will fished his journal out of his bag and placed it on the table next to where Dr. Lecter customarily sat. He sat down in his usual seat, sighing heavily. Hannibal sat behind his desk and opened a manilla folder, pulling out some paperwork.

“Before we get started Will, there is some paperwork to go over. It won’t take long.” 

Will nodded and closed his eyes, head leaning back against the chair.

“Happy belated birthday Will. This makes you an adult in the eyes of the state and as such if you want to change the parameters of our relationship, you are legally able to do so.”

“Yes, I do. I exercise my right to privacy. I don’t want my father involved any longer.”

“Rather sudden but yes, it’s permissible. I need you to sign this form.”

“What about anonymity from the school?” Will questioned as he signed the document and handed it back and watched Dr. Lecter put it back inside the file, desk as neat as before.

‘That’s a bit trickier as our sessions are mandated by the school. Legally, I have to continue to report as it’s a requirement of the internship.” 

“Fine. Can you be choosy about what you report?”

“It depends. Where is this going Will?”

“Could I please have some tea and then I can explain Dr. Lecter?” 

“You seem on edge Will. Tea is certainly in order. I suggest Lemon Balm.”

“Thank you. They started me on a new aspect of my job yesterday. I’m responsible for scanning crime scene photos into the database I’m working on.”

Hannibal busied himself with the tea but his brain was whirling. With the young man’s gift of empathy, this new direction in his work would of course raise demons. He wondered whether a token of gratitude might not be out of place, a pair of tickets for an upcoming ballet, sent to the Crawfords couched in regret that he was unable to use them and thought of them as patrons of the Baltimore art scene. After all, he would be busier now and have less time for social functions.

He smiled and handed Will his tea cup along with a saucer with extra sliced lemons and a sugar cube, knowing the boy had a sweet tooth. He took an extra lemon slice for himself and sat down, eager to look at the journal and imagining what new wonders it held. 

“I tried not to concentrate on them, get drawn in by them. I have to look at each scan to make sure that its clear and not fuzzy or scanned in upside down or something like that.”

“And you’re afraid that you brought something back with you after you looked at the photos. Afraid you let something  _ in.” _

Hannibal put his teacup down and picked up the journal. “May I?” 

Will nodded and watched while Dr. Lecter read the passage and pursed his lips, closed the book and tilted his head like a robin listening for worms as he looked at Will. 

“Yes. Please may I have some more tea? I feel at sea, unmoored.” Will muttered under his breath, “What am I doing in high school? Even trying for a scholarship? I should have stuck to fixing boat motors in Louisiana.”

Hannibal carried over the teapot, poured out another cup of tea and handed it to Will. “A boat engine is a machine, a predictable problem. Easy to solve. If you fail, there is a paddle. Where was your paddle with Johnston?

“You’re supposed to be my paddle.”

“I am. It wasn’t the act of hurting Johnston that got you down, was it? Doing bad things to bad people makes us feel good. Did you really feel so bad because hurting him felt so good?”

“I liked hurting him. I would have gone further,” whispered the teenager.

“Recognizing that is an important first step Will. It’s vitally important that you write down any disturbing images or dreams you have while working with the crime scene photos.“ 

“You’re not telling me to stop?”

“To stop the internship? You will lose your inside edge for that scholarship if you give it up. Not to mention that you won’t ever be considered for the FBI. Too unstable people will say. Do you want that?”

“No.” 

“Then continue to do your job well. Go to school. Continue to write in your journal and come to me. We will navigate these rapids.” 

‘With you as my paddle.”

“Of course Will. Now let’s go back to the journal entry and examine your feelings and impressions.”

“Overwhelmed. “

“That’s a good start. Let’s see what we can do about that. I would like to do some hypnotherapy to relax you and help you with those feelings. Could we try that Will?”

“I suppose.”

“It’s not like in the movies. Under hypnosis, you will be in control of yourself and would never do anything that you would normally find highly objectionable. Do you trust me Will?”

“I do, Dr. Lecter.”

“Good. Now close your eyes. I’m going to count you down. When you awake, you will be refreshed and able to recall my suggestions. One.”

Will felt himself sinking further into the seat cushions as his therapist continued to count. He felt light like a balloon as the numbers continued to drop and Hannibal’s voice became a haze of static. 

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

Things would have continued on a more or less predictable pattern if Jack hadn’t given Will that one particular file. As soon as he started to process it, he knew the killer was back. Someone had just closed up shop for the winter and now with the advent of spring, something more than tulips and daffodils was surfacing in the spring sunshine. The revenant danced in between the pixels and the emphemra of the police report. 

_ ‘I’ll get you, you bastard. I can tell it’s you. The FBI is too overwhelmed to waste time on you. That’s fine with me,’  _ Will was surprised at the venom of his thoughts as he studied the picture after it had been scanned in. it sickened him but he pushed the revulsion away as he concentrated on what the picture didn’t say. This killer was in the spaces, the things unseen, unsaid.

With that last insight, something popped into place for Will. He pulled out his journal and dutifully wrote down his thoughts and impressions along with a quick sketch of the photo. He couldn’t wait to show Dr. Lecter. He put the journal back in his book bag and went back to processing another file.

Later that night, true to form, the nightmares arrived with a vengeance. Will woke, covered in cold sweat and reached for his journal. He wrote down his dream, pleased at how much of it he remembered before drifting back into uneasy sleep. 

The next morning was a struggle at school. Everyone, except for Will, was caught up in the anticipation of prom night at the end of the week. He had already arranged to spend the evening at Beverly’s, eating popcorn and watching some old black and white horror films on television. “Something retro,” Beverly promised. Franklin was swooning about the school, worse than ever, going on about his date, Tobias Budge. Even that was bearable up until everyone had to file into to the gymnasium for a pep rally. The loud cheers and good natured shoving soon had Will overwhelmed and looking for an escape. He found Counselor Bloom and asked to be excused to the study hall.

“Do you need an escort Mr. Graham? You look a bit peaky.”

“No, I’ll be fine. Thank you.”

Sitting in study hall under Dr. Chilton’s supervision, he struggled to maintain a facade of normalcy. It felt like for ages until his next therapy visit and on a spur of the moment, he decided to write to Dr. Lecter. He dropped off the letter at the post office on his way home from school. 

^^^^^^^^^^^^

The following night Will was working on his homework when his father knocked on his door to tell him he had a phone call from his therapist of all people. Looking a bit shocked, Will followed his father into the kitchen to take the call. 

“Dr. Lecter?”

“You sound surprised Will. May I remind you that you wrote to me?”

“Um.”

“You don’t feel you can say anything, can you?”

“No.”

“I will be there to pick you up in fifteen minutes.”

“But, what…”

“Tell your father I am taking you out for coffee which is true. I won’t keep you long. It’s a school night.”

“Ok. Thank you.”

Will hung up the phone and mentioned that he had written to Dr. Lecter who was stopping by to take Will out for coffee. His father jumped to the conclusion it was about the FBI program now that finals were approaching. Will didn’t disabuse him of that theory and went to change his shirt.

Good as his word, Dr. Lecter rang the doorbell shortly afterward. Will whistled at the Bentley at the curb as he climbed into the passenger seat. Dr. Lecter got into the driver’s seat, shifted gears and soon numbers of cafes and coffee shops were passed by as the car glided down the city streets. 

“Where are we going?” Will asked nervously.

“Back to my house for coffee. It’s cheaper and more comfortable. I won’t overstep any boundaries, Will.” 

“Oh, ok. They, my classmates, think I’m weird, Dr. Lecter.”

  
“I’m much weirder than you will ever be, Will. It’s fine to be weird. Do you trust me?”

“I trust you.”

“Relax then.”

Will closed his eyes and dozed. Hannibal let him rest until he drove up to his home and had parked the car. 

“Will?” A question softly asked even though a large part of Hannibal was content to watch the teenager rest. He could have used the opportunity for sketching. That could come later. Something for him to savor. He watched Will rouse, blink and blush at falling asleep.  _ ‘Irresistible,’ _ thought Hannibal as he exited the car and walked around to his front door, opening it for his guest.

Will quickly joined him inside. “Let me show you into the the kitchen, Will and you can tell me what’s on your mind.”

Will sat at the small kitchen table and watched Hannibal operate the most complicated coffee machine he had ever seen. 

“What prompted you to write to me Will? Why write? Why not call?”

“Writing allows me to put a bit of distance between. It’s easier to keep control. But you knew that. That’s why you gave me the journal.”

Hannibal’s mouth curved upward at the observation but stopped short of a true smile. “Milk and sugar?”

“Yes please. What did you think of the letter then?

“You are putting things together Will. I imagine what you see and learn touches everything else in your mind. Your values and decency are present yet shocked at your associations, appalled at your dreams. No forts in the bone arena of your skull for things you love.”

“You are not far off. My thoughts are often not tasty.”

  
“Nor mine. No effective barriers.”   
  
“Associations come quickly. I find myself making connections and filling gaps.”

  
“I’m sorry, Will. Observing is what we do. I can’t shut mine off any more than you can shut   
yours off. Perception’s a tool that’s pointed on both ends. You’ve seen something in the case files recently. All those ugly variables. Some bad man with something new. Are you reconstructing his fantasies? What kind of problems does he have?”

“He has a few specific ones.”

“Ever have any problems, Will?”

“Not like this. Absolutely not. Nope.”

‘Of course you don’t. You and I are just alike. Problem free. Nothing about us to feel horrible about. I think Counselor Bloom, among others, sees you as a fragile little teacup, the finest china used for only special guests.”

“How do you see me?”

“The mongoose I want under the house when the snakes slither by. You are much more resilient than you know. Finish your coffee. I’ll take you home.”

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

Prom came and went along with finals then graduation. For Will, graduation was the only thing that mattered. Not for him so much. He saw it as a stepping stone but for his father, it was a vindication of the sacrifices he had made and the struggles they had endured. Beverly was valedictorian and Will was over the moon about that. He was all but assured his scholarship if he could finish out the FBI summer program and that’s all he cared about. It wasn’t strictly true but it was the only thing he could publicly admit to if pressed.

He threw himself into the increased hours at the FBI, hungry to put the puzzle pieces together, eager to find a killer. Unbeknownst to his father, he had also increased his therapy sessions. He was making connections there also. 

“Your journal is getting darker, Will.”   
  
“I'm alone in that darkness.”

‘You're not alone, Will. I'm standing right beside you.’

“I want to do awful things Dr. Lecter. This is where therapy gets tricky.” 

“It doesn't have to be tricky.”

“I could confess to a murder and you can’t say a word. I could’ve killed someone this morning and you can’t say a word. But if I’m planning to commit a murder…” 

“I am ethically obligated to take action to prevent that murder. If this were therapy…”

“What is this then?”

“We’re not technically patient and doctor now. We never really were.”

“Honestly?”

Hannibal hummed as he sipped his tea. “You think you’ve found him, this dog killer of yours.”

“Yes.”

“Will you tell Jack Crawford?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“The punishment won’t be severe enough. He’ll be free and I’ll be suffering again. What do you propose?”

“In love, you take leave of your senses, but in hatred, you must be present to calculate your actions. As therapists, we work with people the same way. Never touching, but finding wavelengths and frequencies to affect change. Guiding them from dissonance toward composition. Professionally, personally, this is the sort of catharsis I have to recommend.”

“I should be surprised.”

“But you aren’t. Anyone can become angry. According to Aristotle, that’s the easy part. But to be angry with the right person, and to the right degree, and at the right time, and for the right purpose, and in the right way, that’s not easy. If you really want to murder your killer, Will, wait until you can get away with it. Or find someone to do it for you. Or maybe a bit of both?”

Will’s grin was terrifying and thrilling to see. “You’ll help me make him go away.”

Hannibal smiled in return. “Drink your tea, Will.” 

The summer went by, full of schemes. Once the list of possibles was narrowed down and a culprit identified, it was all too easy to discern his weekly patterns as unimaginative as the beast himself. Dog fighting on Friday and Saturday, in the bars on Monday through Thursday. Sunday night off in an attempt to assuage Christian guilt. 

At a therapy session, he had argued with Hannibal, wanting to make a tableau, an example of his own. He was urged caution and secrecy over flamboyance. “This is a significant step which will resonate through your soul, Will. You may kill again in the line of duty perhaps if you go on to become a police officer or special agent. There will  _ never _ be another one like this. Do not cloud your reasons with Hollywood theatrics. You and I know what he has done. And that is good enough for now. Perfect caution and secrecy and if you wish to continue down this dark road, theatrics may come. The important thing is what you are doing, not how the thing is done.”

“Am I a monster then, Dr. Lecter?”

“No, Will. I am intimately acquainted with them. And you are, in no way, one of that kind. Do not worry yourself on that account.”

Still unsure, Will looked at Hannibal, his eyes brimming with unshed tears. Hannibal put his teacup down and crossed his office to stand before the young man. “Normally, I expressly forbid physical contact of any kind in this room. Seeing you like this, as your friend, not therapist now, Will, would you allow a little familiarity?” 

Hannibal opened his arms and was startled at the speed at which Will stood up and flung himself into Hannibal’s arms. He brought his arm carefully around the young man’s upper back and held the back of Will’s head with the other, cradling it. At the first touch, Will couldn’t stop the tears from brimming over and sobbed into Hannibal’s shoulder. Hannibal held him for the next twenty minutes, speaking to him in a polyglot mixture of Lithuanian, French, Italian, Danish and German. 

“Our time is up Will. Do you feel better?”

“Your shirt, your jacket! Oh my god! I’ll pay for the dry cleaning!”

“Stop! You will not! You’re my friend.” Hannibal put his hand under Will’s chin and looked into his eyes. Will allowed the eye contact. “You look better, more at ease. Go and wash your face though. You will frighten your father.”

Will nodded and thanked Hannibal before following his directions. When he stepped out of Hannibal’s personal powder room, Hannibal was in his shirt sleeves behind his desk again. 

Looking up, he smiled at the young man. “Much better, Will. See you next week.” As if nothing had happened out of the ordinary. 

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

It was all too easy for Will to get a week away from his dad. With Dr. Lecter’s assistance, he arranged a fishing trip for him along with a buddy of his father’s back down in the Gulf of Mexico. Will paid for it with a combination of his savings along with a tiny stipend from Dr. Lecter. He hoped he wouldn’t be unrecognizable when his father came back into town. Dr. Lecter assured him he wouldn’t be and he trusted him on that. 

Will insisted on using himself as bait. They picked Trivia Tuesday, counting on the glut of patrons in the bar to provide some cover. The prey stumbled in, already inebriated from some other drinking hole. Will spotted him, cosied up to him, plying him with an import on tap before coaxing him into one of the dark corners. A few beers later and the man would have followed him anywhere. A whispered suggestion go to one of the more flea-bitten roadside motels was eagerly accepted. Will followed the staggering man back to his pickup truck and soon enough they were pulling into the parking lot with only one other car, a nondescript Hyundai for company. Will led them to the furthest motel room on the corner away from the tiny office.

He opened the door and elbowed the inebriated man inside, listening to him yelp “Hey! Getting a little horny are you?” 

Will didn’t even bother to reply. He just closed the door and locked it quickly before turning to face the slightly swaying man. Will knew he was the killer as soon as he bought him a drink at the bar and had no need of last minute confessions. The pendulum swung and he saw how many animals the sadist had killed in the last month alone from his brief brush up against him at the bar, looking into his piggy eyes. The latest was only a few hours before, dumped down by the river just like the first discarded mutt all those endless months ago. It was all Will could do to hang onto his gorge and not spew bile all over the man’s cowboy boots. Will even caught the faint residue of blood from the left one. It took every ounce of discipline Will had not to gut him like the porcine beast he resembled. 

The less he heard from him the better at this point. The drunk fumbled with his belt buckle, thinking that he was going to get lucky. It couldn’t have been further from the truth. 

Will slipped the linoleum knife from his pocket, holding it in his right hand. The belt buckle clanked and jingled as the man struggled to make his drunken fingers work. He was making enough noise to mask any sound that Hannibal made, slipping out of the open bathroom and quickly crossing the room to lunge forward, driving his knife into one of the man’s kidneys with one hand and covering his mouth with the other, pulling his head back as he did so. At that moment as if they had practiced a thousand times, Will leapt forward and severed his carotid artery, cutting across his neck and in a deadly dance, Will followed the motion of the blade to the side sidestepping the gout of blood. Hannibal let the body slip down to the ground quietly and came around to where Will was standing. 

He drew him aside placing one hand on the back of Will’s neck, stroking him there and whispered, “With all my knowledge and intrusion, I could never entirely predict you. I can feed the caterpillar, whisper through the chrysalis, but what hatches follows its own nature and is beyond me. This is all I ever wanted for you, Will, for both of us. Are you contented?”

“Yes I am.”

“May I presume to take a liberty Will?”

“What is that Dr. Lecter?”

“Surely this calls for a first name basis. Please come back to my house for a few days Will. I don’t want you to be alone just now. I have a comfortable guest bedroom which you may avail yourself of.”

“I'd like that very much,” whispered Will. 

“That’s settled then. We’ll be done here shortly.”

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

After staging the body, tidying up odds and ends, both of them drove off in the Hyundai. At a stoplight before the interstate entrance ramp, Hannibal watched Will curled up fast asleep on the back seat. After an hour and a quarter of freeway driving, Hannibal had ditched the economy car and switched to a BMW. He relaxed as he reached the outskirts of Baltimore and hummed an operetta under his breath as he reached his house. 

He parked the car and gently shook his passenger awake. “We’re home, Will.” Hannibal exited the car, gently closing the door to make as little street noise as possible and crossed around to open the car door for Will who looked at him with bleary eyes. Hannibal put his finger in front of his lips in a ‘shhh’ gesture and Will nodded, taking Hannibal’s arm, feeling exhausted. Hannibal quietly closed the car door and escorted the teenager to the front door. 

Once inside in the foyer, Hannibal efficiently stripped down to his boxers, not wanting to track any blood through the house and left his clothes in a pile while Will watched him with wide open eyes. Sensing disaster, Hannibal noticed Will’s eyes fluttering and scooped him up as he swayed on his feet. He carried him into the large guest ensuite on the first floor and set him down on the tile floor, waking him and said “please hold onto the vanity Will. I’ll be right back.” 

Will let out a sigh and slumped over, nearly snoring immediately. Hannibal gave him one last look to make sure he was safe before he left the room to retrieve some items of clothing from his walk-in closet upstairs. 

Returning with his arms full of pajamas and robes, he hung them up on the hooks on the back of the door. He crossed to the shower stall then, starting the water to warm. Only then, did he walk over by Will and gently shake his shoulder. “Will, take off your clothes and get in the shower. “ 

Will mumbled something which sounded like “Just five more minutes dad, ok?” 

Hannibal smiled at the unconscious association and set out an extra toothbrush for his guest. He opened the mirrored covered shelf in the wall and took out his razor and personal toothbrush and proceeded to brush his teeth. Will still wasn’t moving and was slightly snoring. Hannibal rinsed his mouth out and as he passed the somnolent young man, he gave him a huge slap to his backside. Instantly, Will yelped and was entirely awake. He looked at Hannibal completely shocked, rubbing his asscheek. 

“I tried being polite, Will. We’re wasting water. I told you to take off your clothes. Don’t make me ask you again.”

“We...we’re showering together?”

“Yes. You can check for blood on me and vice versa. I know you’re exhausted. But fifteen more minutes and you’ll be in your bed alone, sound asleep.”

Will unzipped and pulled off his jeans along with his briefs and socks. Hannibal slipped out of his boxers and stepped into the shower enclosure. Will pulled his t-shirt over his head, dropping it on the floor. He cupped one of his hands over his genitals and opened the shower enclosure, stepping inside quickly and closing the door again. He looked anywhere but at the nude backside in front of him.

Hannibal turned sideways and held out his arm “Come Will. You’re shivering. Let me get you clean and into your bed. Come my beautiful boy.”

At that, Will gave a choked sob and moved forward. “Come here where it’s warm. That’s right.” Hannibal moved back and gently maneuvered Will right underneath the shower head. “I have some organic soap. Just relax and let me take care of you.” He washed the young man with copious amounts of fragrant lather, lavishing him with praise, his touch kind but clinical, no lingering touches, nothing sexual in motive or deed. The last thing was shampooing Will’s hair and with this, he did take his time, giving him a scalp massage along with the conditioner which had the young man shivering in his arms at its end. Will’s face was pressed up against Hannibal’s neck and he wasn’t sure if he was speaking to him or kissing him.

“What’s that dear one? I didn’t hear what you said.”

Will pulled back and looked Hannibal directly in the eyes. “What if I don’t want to be alone?” murmured Will.

“Then you shall not be. Whatever makes you comfortable. If you are too tired to assist me, you may sit on the bench while I wash although I would like you to check me once I’ve finished?”

“No, I want to,” whispered Will as he took the soap from the soap dish and started to lather it between his hands. He started at Hannibal’s neck and worked his way down, trying not to tickle or tease. Hannibal closed his eyes and sighed as Will’s fingers skimmed over his water slick skin. “Umm, Hannibal? Do you have a brush? I think there’s some blood under your nails.” 

“I’m as tired as you Will. I hope you don’t mind if i sit?” He gestured toward the corner of the shower and Will saw the nail brush. While he retrieved it, Hannibal sat on the bench and soaped up his hair. Will lathered up the nail brush and gently cleaned Hannibal’s nails on both his hands and feet just for good measure. When he was done, he helped him to stand rinsing the shampoo away along with the soap and tried to return the favor of the scalp massage with the conditioner. Hannibal could tell how bone tired the young man was and said “Enough Will. Am I clean?”

“Oh yes, Hannibal.”

“Shall we go to bed then my beautiful young man?”

Will yawned widely and Hannibal turned off the shower. He got out first and grabbed a plush blue towel wrapping Will in it as soon as he stepped out of the enclosure. “Sit there and dry off.” 

He took a smaller towel for himself and briskly dried himself before putting moisturizer on his face. He handed Will a pair of Lapis Lazuli colored pajamas and got dressed in a white and black striped pair himself. He helped the nearly asleep on his feet guest into the bedroom and under the bed covers before dousing the lights and climbing into the bed on the other side.

Within minutes, Hannibal could hear gentle snoring coming from his houseguest and curled on his side, chasing down sleep himself. 

  
  


^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

Hannibal was awakened by the minute shaking of his houseguest. Alarmed that Will was experiencing a panic attack, Hannibal rolled over and reached out a hand to touch the teenager’s upper back. Immediately, Will moaned, a particularly painful sound, which didn’t lessen Hannibal’s concerns. 

“Will? Are you ill?” he said firmly but quietly not wanting to alarm the young man. He continued, “Please allow me to examine-” and he became aware of Will’s scent which changed as he shifted away. Everything fell into place. 

“Shall I leave or would you wish me to stay?”

Hannibal felt the brush of Will’s warm, almost feverish hand, slip backwards toward him and clutch at his pajama top, bunching it in a fist. 

“I’ll take it that’s the latter rather than the former,” whispered Hannibal, delighted by the turn of events. He cupped Will’s hand in his, just holding his hand over Will’s fist and running his thumb along the knuckles. “Do you want to let go Will? We can find something else for you to hold.”

Will made a noise of gasped delight. “Come back over here. There’s plenty of room. No need to hide.” His pajama top was released quickly and before Hannibal could respond further, Will rolled over and moved closer to the middle of the bed.

“Look at you, all flushed already,” Hannibal eased Will’s hand out of his pajama bottoms. “Haven’t I taught you that life is to be savored?”

“Ohhhh,” whimpered the frustrated young man. 

“I know. I know. But let’s slow down. It will feel so much better. May I put my arms around you?”

Will nodded as Hannibal pulled him close to his chest, one hand carding through his sweat-soaked hair and the other caressing his upper back. “Now tell me, dear one, what put you in this state, hmmm? What were you thinking about? Was it a dream? Or do you do this every early morning?”

“No! It’s not anything like that!”

“A dream then?”

Will nodded and sighed. 

“Tell me.”

The young man fidgeted and in return Hannibal slapped his ass. A sudden gasp and then moan as Hannibal soothed where he struck. “I’m not in the habit of repeating myself. You would do well to remember that,” said Hannibal soothingly. He released Will and pulled back to look at his face. “Just a few house rules. I’ll teach you the others.”

Before Hannibal could reach out to caress his face, Will took the initiative and nuzzled against his palm, sighing as if he just slipped into a warm bath. Will moved so he was lying on his back and began speaking in a hushed voice,

“I dreamed about what we did last night. All the blood. There were rivers of it. It was warm and I was swimming in it, naked. I was so happy. You were there. I remember your waistcoat and tie. We kissed as we got pulled under the river. I woke up.”

“Remarkable Will. My beautiful young man. A lovely dream. I can see why you woke in such a state,” murmured Hannibal, “May I give you pleasure, Will?”

Will was transfixed, shivering in his borrowed clothes, listening to Hannibal‘s reply never expecting to hear anything of the sort. He lay there looking at him and was struck dumb with wonderment. If someone were to ask him how he arrived at where he was, he’s not sure he could give them a cogent answer. 

Hannibal saw a timid smile on Will’s face and took that as a consent. “Thank you for allowing me to touch you. It’s quite an honor, one that I deeply respect. You can say no at anytime. I won’t be upset,” 

Will nodded, found his voice and whispered “please.”

“Very well,” Hannibal sat up and began to pull Will’s pajama bottom down his legs. With a strangled yelp, Will grabbed the waistband and held it in place, preventing it from moving any further.

Hannibal chuckled. “I refuse to fumble and grope at you, Will. While that technique may be fine in some back alley, it’s not how I wish to start off with each other. Besides, have you forgotten we saw each other last night?” He watched the embarrassed flush color the young man’s face. “I wasn’t trying to shame you, dear one. Only to remind you that there are less secrets than you fear between us.”

He laid beside Will again taking him in his arms. “Forgive me. I forgot to ask a very important question.” He put his lips right up against the shell of his ear and whispered, “Are you a virgin, Will?”

A shudder and a very quiet “yes” was the response. Hannibal smiled, “I’ll be very careful and start slow. With your beauty, I was sure you had been plucked already.” Will shivered in his arms.

Hannibal pulled back and looked at the young man in his bed. His eyes were tightly closed and his breathing was just a tad fast. He counted the beats of his heart in his neck and smiled. “May I kiss you?” 

Will nodded once and licked his lips. Hannibal started by placing a kiss on his forehead right in the middle above his eyes. He kissed his way to Will’s eyelids, using much less pressure, barely touching at all and listened to a giggle. He rubbed his nose against Will’s and saw the young man’s toothy grin. “Are you enjoying this?”

“Yes!”

He kissed his cheeks, his cheekbones before drifting down to his jaw and nipping kisses from one ear to the other. He heard a lusty moan and felt the bed shift as Will wriggled. Hannibal nosed up from his jaw to his earlobe, gently breathing against Will’s ear, listening to him gasp “More!” before taking it in his mouth to suck and nibble. 

Will arched his back and gripped the bedcovers. Hannibal waited until he relaxed again before he pressed his lips to Will’s. He ran his tongue along his bottom lip and waited until he felt just the tip of tongue brush against his and pull back. He cupped Will’s face between his hands and flickered his tongue against the other’s mouth. He swallowed down the sighs and excited noises, pulling back watching a silver line connect both of their mouths. When it broke, so did Will. 

He lunged forward capturing Hannibal’s chin in between his hands and greedily sucked and bit at his lips. Hannibal opened his mouth and Will was lost. Deciding that it was as good a distraction as any, Hannibal moved his hands down to the pajama bottoms, pulling then down and all the way off. 

As his skin was exposed to the air, Will groaned louder and thrust his tongue in deeper into Hannibal’s mouth. Hannibal continued to tease, to make Will take the effort to chase his pleasure. When Will’s lips were reddened and swollen, Hannibal pulled back and let his hand start to undo the buttons on Will’s pajama top. He pulled the fabric aside, admiring the view. 

“Have you touched yourself anywhere but your cock Will?”

“N...no.”

“Ah, that’s a shame. We will have to rectify that at once,” said Hannibal and bent forward to take one of Will’s nipples in his mouth. He nearly got a broken nose in response as Will bucked upward at the sensation, letting out such a noise that Hannibal got harder at the sound.  _ ‘Absolutely delightful.’  _ thought Hannibal and repeated the action until Will was begging him for something, anything more.

Leaving a shaken young man, Hannibal pulled away and found the lube in his bedside table. He slicked up his fingers, allowing the lube to warm up before returning to his task. 

Hannibal stroked the underside of Will’s rapidly filling cock, squeezing it gently, humming appreciatively at Will’s whimpers. “Such a greedy young man. Leading me down a road of depravity and debauchment. I am utterly smitten by your charms.”

With his other hand, he stroked between his legs, exploring, caressing and watching him thrust his hips up frantically. “Easy, Will. Trust me.”

Will nodded and tried his best to relax back down on the bed, his legs splaying open on instinct. “Yes, like that. You’re body knows what it likes,” Hannibal murmured. He changed his technique to take advantage of the copious amount of precome dripping from Will’s slit. He purred, “So  _ wet _ for me. Would you be as excited if I were to take you in my mouth? I’d love to taste you.”

Will mewled, wriggled his hips at the lewd suggestion. He brought his arm up, raising it over his head and bit at his bicep as Hannibal polished the head of his cock with the palm of one hand. Hannibal watched Will’s thighs shake and saw him jerk his leg up, toes curled. He knew he was close. 

“I’m gonna-“

“I know, Will.”

“So-“

“Come for me.”

Hannibal grinned broadly as he watched Will arch his back while biting hard enough on his arm to leave a bruise, screaming out his pleasure. Ropes of cum splattered and splashed his torso, a few errant drops reaching his chin. He shivered as Hannibal stroked him through his orgasm only stopping when he was completely sure of Will’s exhaustion and overstimulation. 

Dazed, sated, panting for breath, brain buzzing, Will lay back and attempted to recover from the best hand job in his life. He watched Hannibal lick him clean, starting at his pubic hair and working his way up to his face. Hannibal kissed him deeply and he tasted himself for the first time. 

Will groaned and clutched at Hannibal pulling him down so he could nuzzle the older man. “Thank you, Hannibal. That was the best orgasm I’ve ever had,” he murmured. “What are we to each other now?”

“That is a very astute question, Will. One that deserves careful exploration and discourse. It will not be answered quickly. Nor does it need to be answered now.”

Will wriggled closer, wanting to be cuddled. He pressed a kiss to Hannibal’s neck, just over his pulse point, while Hannibal moaned and ran his fingers through his sweaty curls. “Dearest Will, as much as I would love it, please do not leave me with a love bite.” He paused and chuckled, “At least not where anyone can see. I have patients today.”

Will licked at Hannibal’s neck, finding the slight saltiness irresistible. He felt Hannibal shift and felt his clothed erection brush against his thigh.  _ ‘Oh, god! I’m so selfish! Way to go Graham. He gives you the best orgasm of your life and what do you give him? Blue balls!’ _

Will fumbled, clutching at Hannibal’s pajamas. “Please,” he whined. 

“What is it, Will? What’s crossed that lovely mind of yours and put these frown lines here?” He nuzzled close, tracing the most prominent one on Will’s forehead with his nose. 

“Tell me.”

“I...um...didn’t do anything for you, Hannibal,” as his hand dropped along his abdomen. Hannibal stopped it well before his waistline. 

“There’s no need for you to do anything for me Will. This was all for you. We do not have to explore your budding sexuality any further. I am content with the gift you gave me this morning.”

Will studied Hannibal’s face as if he was looking at the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel, wonderment and perplexedness combined. “I didn’t give you  _ anything!” _

“How little you discount yourself, Will. You told me yourself that no one has touched you in that way. Your desire was a gift, it  _ is  _ a gift. Desire is life.”

As Hannibal said this, Will smiled beatifically at him and pulled him close for a bear hug. Hannibal put his arms around the younger man and felt him shiver at the contact, then relax into it, hugging him tighter. 

“My beautiful, amazing, wonderful young man. That’s enough for now.” He placed a kiss on top of Will’s head in much the same place his father always kissed him. 

“Oh, Hannibal. I feel like I’m home,” came a muffled sleepy voice from the young man tucked into his armpit. 

“That’s wonderful to hear, Will. But sleep now.” 

Will’s eyes fluttered shut and he curled in in himself, rolling to the side. Hannibal smiled fondly at him, covered him carefully with the blanket and went to have a shower, then make breakfast. 

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

Two days later, Will came downstairs for coffee to find a newspaper laid open at his customary place at the kitchen table. Curious, he scanned the article. “Links to Drug Dealing at Motel Murder Site. Suspects in Custody!”

“Imagine that. I didn’t know he was involved with drug dealing too?”

Hannibal gave a mischievous smile. 

“You didn’t!” Will looked poleaxed. 

“Not my most inspired work. But knowing someone’s child in the local quartet with a heroin problem was very useful.”

Will laughed uproariously. “They aren’t going to come after you?”

“Why would they? I’m a therapist and I insisted that the addict watch me open the packet and flush the drugs down the sink in the middle of our session.”

“How did you manage that?”

“It’s quite simple. I used to be a juggler when I was very young.”

Will can’t believe what he’s hearing, his brain trying to process the fact that his therapist, this murderer in front of him, was a juggler. A mischievous grin crossed his face. “Prove it!”

Hannibal looked at him and motioned for Will to come closer to the island in the middle of the kitchen. He crossed to one of the kitchen cabinets, pulling out a large glass mixing bowl, setting it down next to the carton of eggs which had not been put away yet from breakfast. Taking a metal spatula, he held it in his right hand, edge upward at a ninety degree angle to the glass bowl. With his left hand, he plucked an egg from the carton and flung it up in an arc, watching it every second. On its downward trajectory, the egg made contact with the edge of the spatula, breaking itself in half precisely. The liquid contents dropped into the glass bowl below, while Hannibal caught both halves of the shell with his left hand before they reached the bowl. 

Will stood dumbfounded, mouth agape, and spontaneously burst into applause at the demonstration. 

Hannibal didn’t make much of an attempt to hide his delight at Will’s reaction. He allowed himself to preen a tiny bit, until his eye saw the time on his watch. 

“Thank you for the applause. Doing good has its own rewards you’ll find, Will. Drink your coffee now. You’ll be late.”

“Yes, Hannibal.”

It was a wonderful start to his day with the Bureau and his father would be home that night. All was right in his world. Will hummed into his coffee while Hannibal finished packing a lunch for him to take to work, smiling as he recognized the tune. 

**Author's Note:**

> Underage — Will is 17 at the start but murder and sex takes place when he is 18. 
> 
> Thanks go to purplesocrates and electrarhodes who told me the original idea didn’t suck. 
> 
> Thanks to Yggdrastiles for the wonderful job at being a beta. It was lovely working with you!
> 
> Thanks also to Krey-9-Jorce for all the support and encouragement. 
> 
> And lastly to @ladyjekyll over on Tumblr whose artwork really takes this to the next level. I hope you enjoyed this collaboration as much as I have.


End file.
